


Don’t Lie to Me, Baby

by wutthequiznack (birbsandemidogs04)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, I still love them help, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, klance, mentions of the garrison, wow i still have no idea how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 21:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbsandemidogs04/pseuds/wutthequiznack
Summary: Lance stares. He walks over to the lie detector and sits in the chair Keith had previously occupied, and Keith at first thinks he’s thinking but then Lance pats the table. “Hook me up. I want to see if I’m lying.”Without a word Keith obeys and sits across from him. “What do you want me to ask?”Lance stares straight ahead. “Did I have a crush on someone at the Garrison?”The needle jumps and dashes along its line. Keith watches it intently. “That could mean anyone.” he murmurs, but adrenaline is flooding his system. He’s anxious.“Did I like a pilot?”Again, the needle jumps and jives like some kind of off-rhythm jazz performer.Keith’s mouth clamps shut.Lance’s fingers tap, the sound made tinny by the clamps. “Did the person I liked get kicked out?”Now his gaze is pointedly on Keith.Keith ducks his head, cheeks burning.He hears the needle scratching against the paper.“Is one of the people I had a crush on sitting in front of me?” Lance asks next.Keith looks up to see the needle darting faster across the page.





	Don’t Lie to Me, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Meet the Parents and started thinking about Coran having human artifacts on the castleship, because you know he totally would. An authentic human lie detector? Hell yeah!

 

”So, let’s find out who you really like, huh?”

Leaning across the steel table with a polygraph test separating the two of them, with a positively suggestive eyebrow raise, is none other than Lance fucking McClain. Keith’s gaze flickers down to his bare forearms, pushed into the surface of the table. His sleeves are rolled up just so that if he looks at the exposed skin long enough, Keith’s face will go bright red. Immediately his eyes flick back up to Lance. His weakness is too telling, even with Lance’s density.

 

Case in point: Lance is trying to find out if Keith likes anyone, and his list consists of mostly girls. Enough said.

 

Keith stares into Lance’s eyes and feels himself melt on those browns, like they’re a hot griddle he’s happy to liquify against.

 

Lance stares right back, still smirking. “You’re getting nervous already?”

He really has no clue.

 

Then Lance pulls back and takes one of Keith’s hands so quickly he doesn’t react at first. He has callouses, is all Keith can think. Rough and rugged but soft with hand cream. To Keith’s hand in his Lance attaches heart monitoring clamps, and does the same with the other hand.

 

“Isn’t it cool?” Lance asks, still smiling as he attaches the clamps. “Some kind of Meet the Parents thing.”

 

Keith has no idea what that means. He’s assuming that’s a movie, but it could be anything.

 

“I guess,” he shrugs by way of an answer. His throat is hoarse.

 

Lance looks up, shrugs the fringe out of his face. “It’ll help us weed out the girl you got a crush on and make sure it’s not a girl I’ve got my eyes on.”

 

Keith wants to roll his eyes but that might come across suspicious so he doesn’t risk it.

 

That smirk is on Lance’s face again, the conspiratorial one, like Keith has something to hide. Well, he does. But it’s entirely not what Lance thinks.

“Let’s see, then.”

 

Keith swallows, nods.

 

Lance leans back out of his space, twirling a little in his spinning chair. “So, question uno — do you like Allura?”

 

Keith has to bite back a grin. “No.” he answers, fully confident.

 

Lance comes closer and observes the dials on the chart over Keith’s shoulder. Of course, they’re calm and steady, though Keith’s breath seems to stutter in his chest when Lance gets too near.

 

He’s relieved when Lance pulls away again, rubbing his chin cryptically. “Huh. Okay. Well, what about Nyma? Did you like her?”

 

Keith’s laugh almost bursts from him at that. When those three fugitives had touched down and asked for their help, it wasn’t Nyma Keith was interested in. Rather, the ruggedly handsome and somewhat charming captain of their scrappy ship, Rolo. Nyma’s slender body and decided lack of stubble had been more than enough to turn Keith off. That, and the fact that she is a female.

 

“No,” he says, grinning slightly.

 

Of course, the graph doesn’t spike, because that’s the truth.

 

Spinning to face him, Lance now wears a stern and confused expression. He’s adorable but damn, if he’s not the densest person Keith’s ever known. “I am going to get to the bottom of this, Kogane. I am finding out exactly who you like, and then I’m going to beat you to her.”

 

Keith’s eyebrows lift. “You’ll never find out who it is,” he tells him, and it’s true, because there’s absolutely no way Lance will ever figure out it’s him. Besides, this stupid lie detector test is a weird but effective way of spending time with Lance.

 

The questions shoot off rapidly after that — at some point Lance switches to whole species.

 

“What about the Baku girls?” he demands, but Keith just shakes his head simply after a second of thought.

 

“The Balmera? Shay?!”

 

“Nope.” Keith smiles calmly.

 

Lance hands massage his face as he leans back in his spinning chair and then scrutinizes the graph again.

 

“Uh, Acxa? Didn’t you risk your life to save her ass?”

 

Keith shakes his head. “I was just doing what any of us would’ve done.” he replies. “Besides, I don’t feel that way about Acxa.”

 

He contemplates bringing up Acxa’s attraction to Veronica McClain, but decides against it. It wouldn’t be fair to Acxa, and besides, Lance is the worst gossiper. Things could get ugly.

 

The graph stays stable, and Lance groans.

 

“Uh, those plant people Pidge loves?” he asks, grasping at straws.

 

Keith scrutinizes him. “The Olkari?”

His nose wrinkles. “No.”

 

“The bi-bohs?” Lance suggests. “Some of those chicks are pretty cute.”

 

“Never met them.” Keith shakes his head. “I was with the Blade.”

 

Lance’s expression darkens and Keith notices. “Oh yeah.”

 

He quickly inflates back up to ask the next question, and Keith misses it by wondering how many times Lance has had to do that to be so good at it.

 

Lance continues with the inquisition, peering intently at the lie detector in between responses and finding no results that he wants. After awhile, he opens up the questions so they’re broader.

 

“Did you have a crush on someone back at the Garrison?” Lance asks. He’s now leaning on his elbow on the table.

 

Keith’s eyes go wide automatically as his heart jumps. As such, the monitor jumps and begins to move erratically across the page. Oh shit.

 

Lance almost jumps up in his excitement. “Finally! Now we’re getting somewhere!” he cries, and Keith has to calm himself.

 

There’s been a lot of students at the school since Keith and Lance attended at the same time. There is no way Lance can get through all of them.

 

But Lance smirks, and Keith knows he’s in deep shit.

 

“Adrienne?” he asks.

 

Keith thinks. He remembers Adrienne as being a tomboyish girl who’d stopped making fun of Keith’s quietness after finding out he was an orphan. He’d never thought of her as more than a friend. He shakes his head no to the question, and Lance looks down at the graph, sighing. “Alright. Anna?”

 

Keith can tell he’s in for a long-ass night.

 

—

 

What about Winona?” Lance is asking an hour later.

 

Keith can barely keep his eyes open. “I don’t even know who that is,” he mutters. He’s telling the truth, of course.

 

Lance almost growls at the negative confirmation. “There HAS to be someone you like!”

 

Keith shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Maybe I just don’t like someone.” he suggests.

 

Lance shakes his head in response and laughs. “Yeah, no, everyone’s had a crush. But the thing with you is, you sneak around in the background like some sort of ghost and gloom everything up. You should’ve seen, man. The chicks were all obsessed with you, but it’s like you’re blind!”

 

Keith blinks. “So?”

 

Lance looks completely mystified at that, like it’s a tragedy. “So! Do you even know what it feels like to have a million chicks faun over you? I don’t, and I bet it’s freaking awesome!”

 

The lie detector readings are calm now without distraction or disruption. Keith is gazing at the side of Lance’s face, wishing he had a way with words so he could reassure him. “Look, Lance. Why don’t we call it quits. This is pretty pointless, and I need to go train.”

 

“Aw, come on, man.” Lance complains, but Keith’s already standing up.

 

His hand lands on Keith’s shoulder, stopping the latter and his breath. But he pauses when he sees the readings on the lie detector.

 

They’re pretty much off the charts. Swinging wildly back and forth, like Keith’s telling a million lies at once. His gaze flicks up to Keith’s and his jaw falls agape.

 

Keith’s eyes are wide and fearful. He starts to act, tugging the monitors off. But the truth is already pretty much out.

 

Lance can only taste copper and sand. “Keith, do you — do you like * _me_ *?”

 

Keith squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to be swallowed up body and soul, by the ground. But then he opens them, and he’s not in a boundless void. He knows his cheeks are burning — Lance’s hand is still on his shoulder. “Uh. Uhm. No.” he tries, and the readings become even more erratic, projecting from one lingering clamp that Keith had missed. Fuck.

 

Lance’s hand slips off his shoulder like a bar of soap. “You don’t like girls.” he says aloud.

 

Keith shakes his head. “No,”

 

Lance is staring at him again. “That’s why I couldn’t find any girl you liked?”

 

Keith nods. “Yeah.”

 

“And... you like me?”

 

Keith watches the insecurity in his eyes weave back and forth, like some pendulum of impending doom.

 

He decides, fuck it. “Yes. I like you.” Keith confesses. “But it doesn’t matter anyway.”

 

He takes himself away and starts to leave, but feels a tug on his sleeve. It’s Lance.

He looks back only to see the usual boisterous and loud and confident Lance turn meek and uncertain in front of him.

 

“Lance?” he asks. He’s watching Lance’s face as he pauses, eyes stuck on Keith’s face. “I’m sorry I said anything.” he continues, feeling regret all of a sudden. And shame. Despite the face that the truth had been forced out of him, he feels like he still didn’t have to say anything.

 

But Lance’s grip lingers. “I. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” he says. His eyebrows are tilted in.

 

Keith is surprised at this apology, but nods. “It’s alright. I forgive you, Lance.”

 

And Lance lets go of his sleeve, his hands coming up to caress his own shoulders defensively. Keith wants to leave, but he can’t tear his eyes away from Lance.

 

“You know, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I don’t think I only like girls either.” Lance says. His cheeks are a dull shade of pink, and Keith doesn’t need a lie detector to tell he isn’t lying.

 

Keith’s eyes widen. “Uh, okay?” he responds, but his heart is hammering to get out of his chest like some untamed animal. “Are you sure?”

 

Lance nods at the ground. He scuffs his shoes along the floor. “Yeah. I think so.”

 

“Uhm, well.” Keith says awkwardly. “Am I the first person you’ve told?”

 

“No,” Lance says, shaking his head and tentatively meeting his eyes. A small grin alights his face. “You didn’t get that lucky, mullet. I told my sister Veronica first, and then my mamà.”

 

“You should talk to Shiro too,” Keith suggests, thinking of the sheer amount of advice Shiro had given him over the years, the volume of which could fill several motivational books. “He gives pretty good advice.”

 

“I don’t think I need advice,” Lance says.

 

The intensity in the room is just about killing Keith. He’s never felt concentrated aural energy before, at least not like this. He knows how it feels — the blue lion’s energy had kept him awake at night for an entire week. But it hadn’t been anything compared to this.

 

“What do you need then?” Keith asks Lance next.

 

Lance has trouble meeting his eyes, dragging them along the floor as if they’re a disobedient pet at first before those browns meet Keith’s blues. “I don’t know.”

 

As if on a dare, Keith steals forward to snatch up Lance’s hand, the one that had clutched at his sleeve. He intertwines their fingers carefully, and then looks up at Lance. “Is this what you need?” he breathes.

 

In response Lance nods and reaches out. His other hand scrambles to pull Keith in by his shoulder and then Keith is pushed up against Lance McClain’s amazing lips. He closes his eyes right away as Lance kisses him, hard and deep but slow, like he’s drinking from a fountain of the drink he craves most in the world. Keith almost gets carried away - his hands almost hit Lance’s waist and he almost pulls him even closer, sighing in bliss. But he doesn’t. He thinks. And pulls away.

 

“Lance,” he’s protesting, breathless as Lance starts to kiss along his cheeks and then his jawline. “Do you seriously like me too?”

 

“I’m kissing you, aren’t I?” Lance mumbles, nose buried in his neck now, sending shivers up Keith’s spine.

 

Keith’s hands find Lance’s biceps and push him away. “Lance. Look, you don’t have to kiss me just because I like you.”

 

Lance stares. He walks over to the lie detector and sits in the chair Keith had previously occupied, and Keith at first thinks he’s thinking but then Lance pats the table. “Hook me up. I want to see if I’m lying.”

 

Without a word Keith obeys and sits across from him. “What do you want me to ask?”

 

Lance stares straight ahead. “Did I have a crush on someone at the Garrison?”

 

The needle jumps and dashes along its line. Keith watches it intently. “That could mean anyone.” he murmurs, but adrenaline is flooding his system. He’s anxious.

 

“Did I like a pilot?”

 

Again, the needle jumps and jives like some kind of off-rhythm jazz performer.

 

Keith’s mouth clamps shut.

 

Lance’s fingers tap, the sound made tinny by the clamps. “Did the person I liked get kicked out?”

Now his gaze is pointedly on Keith.

 

Keith ducks his head, cheeks burning.

 

He hears the needle scratching against the paper.

 

“Is one of the people I had a crush on sitting in front of me?” Lance asks next.

 

Keith looks up to see the needle darting faster across the page. His gaze flicks up to Lance. “I thought you like Allura?”

 

Lance shakes his head. “I did. But being with her I realized she needs a friend more than another boyfriend.”

 

“You liked me... since the Garrison?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. Remember the rivalry?”

 

Keith chuckles as he drops his gaze. “How could I forget?”

 

“Totally made up. Veronica says it was most likely a ploy to get your attention.”

 

A certain memory of Shiro saying the same thing to him surfaces in Keith’s mind. “Huh. And you actually wanted to figure out who I liked because you liked me.”

 

“I * _like_ * you,” Lance corrects.

 

Keith grins. “So you remember the bonding moment?”

 

“Don’t push it, cariño,” Lance warns, but he’s smiling. He gets up from his chair and walks to Keith’s, then straddles Keith’s hips when he sits. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice anything was off when I called you _*grizzled*._ No straight man calls his dude-bro that.”

 

“I didn’t think you would ever be into me.” Keith confesses. His mind is fizzled from everything that has just transpired plus the fact that there’s a warm, beautiful, amazing body straddling him, but he can find that thought. Those feelings of shame and unrequited love had dwelt with him too long to be healthy. Pushing it all deep inside has made it hard to bring the feelings back up.

 

Lance is about to say something in response but Keith doesn’t have the patience nor the will to hear any pity. “Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, and Lance nods desperately, clutching at his shirt like it’s a rope that keeping him tethered to the side of a mountain. Like it’s a lifeline.

 

“Don’t make me regret my preteen crush.” Lance says softly but with a smile in his eyes.

 

Keith leans in and pauses as his hand captures Lance’s hard jaw. Then he kisses him, soft and slow. But once he tastes Lance’s lips he can’t stop himself from speeding up, his hands running slowly around Lance’s waist, and settling tentatively on his hips. With a squeeze of confirmation Lance allows him to pull him closer, start moving his lips down the latter’s neck.

 

Then the chair breaks.

 

With a small yelp they both fall in a heap to the floor of the training deck, Lance sprawled atop Keith in a questionable position. They exchange looks, faces inches from each other, and burst into laughter.

 

Lance picks himself up and offers Keith a hand. “Shoulda known these busted-ass chairs would break. Coran said they’re authentic Earth chairs but he didn’t mention they’re from the Cold War.”

 

“That where you got the lie detector too?” asks Keith, dusting off his knees.

 

“Coran?” Lance asks. “Yeah.”

 

Keith smiles, in disbelief that he’s grateful to Coran for something.

 

“He should be the first person we tell.” Lance adds suddenly.

 

“Tell?” Keith asks. “About what?”

 

And when Lance comes over and links their fingers together, Keith melts for him just like he did back when he first saw him at the Garrison as a preteen.

 

“Us.” Lance says.

 

—

 

Years later, the war is long over. Keith stands at the sink of his small kitchen while Lance helps a child with his homework at the kitchen island.

 

All of a sudden the child looks up at Keith, eyes wide and bright. “Daddy?”

 

Keith barely looks over, scrubbing at a pile of dishes. “Yeah?”

 

Lance snickers a bit. “You’re totally not doing the dishes right.” he teases.

 

“Well, you come and do them, Sharpshooter,” Keith responds calmly, knowing Lance won’t take over. When Lance makes no move to get up from his seat beside their son, Keith shoots him a grin over his shoulder, his ponytail shifting. “I thought so.”

 

“I’m helping our son with his homework.” Lance bites back, and stares down at the maths book on the table again, eyes wide and confused. “What kind of math * _is_ * this?”

 

Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“Daddy?” the child tries again. “How did you and Papá get together?”

 

Keith and Lance both try not to laugh at that, recalling the lie detector in all it’s glory. “It’s a long story, sweetheart,” Lance tells their son.


End file.
